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Orsino, duke of Illyria.
Sebastian, a young gentleman, brother to Viola.
Antonio, a sea-captain, friend to Sebastian.
A sea-captain, friend to Vioal.

gentlemen attending on the duke.
Sir Toby Belch, uncle to Olivia.
Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.
Malvolia, steward to Olivia.

servants to Olivia.


Olivia, a rich countess.
Viola, in love with the duke.
Maria, Olivia's woman.
Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other

SCENE, a city in Illyria; and the sea-coast near it.






SCENE I. An Apartment in the DUKE'S Palace,
Enter DUKE, CURIO, LORDS; Musicians attending.

Drike. If music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it ; that, surfeiting
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again ;-it had a dying fall:
0, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,
That breaths upon a bank of violets,
Stealing, and giving odour.--Enough; no more;
Tis not so sweet now, as it was before.
O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou !
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Of wbat validity and pitch soever,
But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy,
That it alone is high-fantastical.

Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord ?
Duke. What, Curio ?
Cur. The heart.

Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have:
0, when mine eyes did see Olivia tirst,
Methought, she purg'd the air of pestilence;
That instant was I turn'd into a hart;


And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
E'er since pursue me.-How now? what news from her?

Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted,
But from her hand-maid do return this answer:
The element itself, till seven years heat,
Shall not behold her face at ample view;
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk,
And water once a day her chamber round
With eye-offending brine: all this, to season
A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh,
And lasting, in her sad remembrance.

Duke. O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame, To pay this debt of love but to a brother, How will she love, when the rich golden shaft, Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart, These sovereign thrones, are all supply'd, and fill'd, (Her sweet perfections,) with one self king ! Away before me to sweet beds of flowers: Love thoughts lie rich, when canopy'd with bowers.

(Eseunt. SCENE II, The Sea-coast. Enter VIOLA, CAPTAIN, and SAILORS. Vio. What country, friends, is this? Cap. Illyria, lady: Vio. And what should I do in Illyria? My brother he is in Elysium.

(sailors! Perchance, he is not drown' :What think you,

Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were sav'd.
Vio. O my poor brother! and so, percbance, may

he be.
Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,
Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
When you, and that poor number sav'd with you,
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
Most provident in peril, bind himself
(Courage and hope both teaching him the practice)
To a strong mast, that liv'd upon the sea;
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves,
So long as I could see.

Vio. "For saying so, there's gold:
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,

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Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
The like of him. Know'st thou this country?

Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born, Not three hours travel from this very place.

Vio. Who governs here? $

Cap. A noble duke in nature, as in name.
Vio. What is his name?
Cap. Orsino.
Vio. Orsino? I have heard my father name him :
He was a bachelor then.

Cap. And so is now,
Or was so very late : for but a month
Ago I went from hence; and then 'twas fresh
In murmur, (as, you know, what great ones do,
The less will prattle of, that he did seek
The love of fair Olivia.

Vio. What's she?

Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count * That'dy'd some twelve-month since; then leaving her

In the protection of his son, her brother,
Who shortly also dy'd: for whose dear love,
They say, she hath abjur'd the company
And sight of men.

Vio. O, that I serv'd that Jady;
And might not be deliver'd to the world,
Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
What my estate is !

Cap. That were hard to compass ;
Because she will admit no kind of suit,
No, not the duke's.

Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain;
And though that nature with a beauteous wall
Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
I believe, thou hast a mind that suits

Witb this thy fair and outward character. →

I pray thee, and I'll pay thee bonnteously,
Conceal me what I am ; and be my aid
For such disguise as, haply, shall become
The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke;
Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him,
It may be worth thy paips; for I can sing,
And speak to him in many sorts of music,
That will allow me very worth his service.
What else may hap, to time I will commit;
Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.

Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be :
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see!

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Vio. I thank thee: Lead me on.


SCENE III. A Room in OLIVIA's House,

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Enter Sir TOBY BELCH and MARIA. Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure, care's an enemy to life.

Mar. By my troth, sir Toby, you must come in earlier o'nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great ex: ceptions to your ill hours. Sir.To. Why, let her except before excepted.

Mar. Ay, but yon must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.

Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no fiaer than I am : these clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too; an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps.

Mar. That qnaffing and drinking will ando you: I beard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight, that you brought in one night here, to be her

Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek?
Mar. Ay, he.
Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
Mar. What's that to the purpose ?
Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.

Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these durcats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal.

Sir To. Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o’the viol, de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and bath all the good gifts of nature.

Mar. He hath, indeed almost natural: for, besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and, but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust be bath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the pradent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave.

Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and substractors, that say so of him. Who are they?

Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company:

Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece ; I'll drink to her as long as there's a passage in my throat, and drink in Illyria: He's a coward, and a coystill, that will not drink to my niece, 'till his brains turn o'the toe like

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